


Bringing Home the Beacon

by ThylacineBee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Custody Battle, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk (Undertale), Mild Dysphoria, Minor Sans/Toriel (Undertale), Misgendering, Panic Attacks, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-24 12:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16640495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThylacineBee/pseuds/ThylacineBee
Summary: Life aboveground is going well with their new monster family, but a new obstacle arrises and Frisk will have to face old wounds and make some difficult choices.





	1. Prologue

It’s a bit of a hike back to Ebott City. As the sun inches higher in the sky you breathe a sigh of relief, a meeting with the humans would not go well after dark. Everyone gapes at the sky through the gaps in the trees as you all make your way down the old hiking path.

  
“LOOK!” Papyrus shouts, pointing to a shimmer up ahead. “THAT MUST BE THE RIVER WHERE ALL THE COOL STUFF COMES FROM!”  
Sure enough, as you near it everyone can see the drifts of trash floating down and getting caught on branches and root overhangs along the bank. You hadn’t seen it on your blind dash going the other direction. Before. Everyone looks upriver to see the looming hulk of a landfill in the distance.

  
“wow, humans sure do throw away a lot of stuff,” Sans comments.

  
You nod solemnly, not sure how to respond.

  
The group moves on away from the river, it will take a couple of hours to reach the city and who knows what will happen then. You reach for determination, trying to create a save point, but nothing happens. Heart dropping in fear, you realize magic is not as strong up here. There’s no going back.


	2. Chapter 2

You sit on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the far wall of your bedroom. It’s been nearly a year now and you cannot believe how quickly time has gone by. _Too fast_ , you think, _way too fast_. Back then you wanted so badly to get out, get back to the world above. You wanted it for your new friends, your new family. It had taken King Asgore two weeks to form a treaty with the mayor of nearby Ebott City, allowing the monsters to officially start moving to the surface. Only a year and already they created a small town at the base of the mountain. No paved roads yet, but houses were put up quickly with so many determined monsters and their magic. Some of them figured out how to literally just move their houses aboveground. Of course, many humans had come by to watch. They were curious, often fearful, but Asgore’s TV appearances as a big fluffy guy who loves tea and gardening has really helped calm a lot of people down. That, and you know they have forgotten what a monster can do with a human soul.

One year. You’ve kept your head down, you’ve stayed with Toriel and have refused to make any public appearances with Asgore despite him asking you to be an official ambassador. It’s not that you don’t want to, but you can’t risk it. You love your new family. Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Dr. Alphys… their kindness and understanding so different than… Before. You don’t want to think about Before, but it creeps into your mind more with each passing day.

Today, the thoughts loom high in your mind. You look at your backpack and breakfast churns uncomfortably in your stomach. There’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“Frisk, dear, are you ready to go yet?” Toriel opens the door and as soon as she sees you on the floor she rushes over to kneel beside you. “What’s wrong Frisk? Aren’t you excited about your first day back at school?”

_No. No I’m not._ Instead you sign, * _Just a little nervous, I won’t know any of the other kids and they will all know each other already._

“Oh, my brave little Frisk, you remember that you didn’t know any of us monsters when you first came into the Underground. You made friends with all of us.”

You remember dying, so many times. No save points up here.

“Besides,” she continued, “Monster Kid will be in your class with you! I know you two are good friends and I can trust you to look after them in this strange new world.”

Looking up at her, you know what she is doing, manipulating you into being brave for MK. It’s working too. But you’re still scared. Monsters are so nice and human children can be so very mean for no reason. You put on a small smile for Toriel, watching her relax as she takes your hand to help you up.

* * *

 

 

Outside, all the other monster children and their families are gathered in the road by the edge of River Town. Asgore is no better at naming things, but no one had the heart to tell him so.

MK rushes out of the group to meet you, “Yo! Frisk! I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited? Though I guess you’vealready beentoahumanschoolsoprobablynotasmuchasme-“

You hold up your hands when they stop for breath, * _It’s a school I’ve never been to before, so it will be new for me too_.

 “Cool! So… uh… you’ll show me how to behave and stuff right?”

 You nod.

Before MK can go on, you are suddenly swept off your feet up into the bony arms of a tall skeleton, “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU FRISK! THIS IS SO EXCITING! I BET YOU WILL BE FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE BY THE END OF THE DAY! AND YOU WILL GET THE BEST GRADES AND TOTALLY WIN AT SCHOOL! 

 Sans reaches up to ruffle your hair, “we’re all rooting for ya kid.” You make a face at the hair ruffling and he grins back.

“Hey! You can’t leave without saying goodbye to me, punk!” Undyne comes running up the road with Dr. Alphys trailing behind her at a much more reasonable pace. Undyne squeezes you tight in a hug while you are still being held by Papyrus. No one finds this awkward. “Knock ‘em dead kid.” She also ruffles your hair as she steps back. 

“N-not literally, I-I-I hope.” Alphys smiles nervously. Everyone laughs.

You look around at your big group of family and friends, more friendly people than you ever had in your life before. A warm feeling grows in your chest and you close your eyes. Breathing in, you can feel the combined magic of the monsters around you, their love for you filling you with determination. It must be enough because there is a shining yellow star appearing in your mind. You reach out and grab it, saving this point in time. Opening your eyes, you smile widely at everyone. No matter what happens today, you are massively relieved to know you can always go back to this point, this place of happiness.

Sans gives you an oddly curious look, as if he might have an idea of what you just did, but he shrugs to himself a little, letting it go for the moment. You’re not sure if he will bring it up again.

After Toriel spends a few extra minutes convincing Papyrus that he doesn’t need to walk you to school with everyone because so many monsters might make some people nervous, the smaller group of children and their parents head out. You can tell Papyrus didn’t really understand, but he lets you go.

* * *

 

 

The determination rush you felt dies at the sight of the school building. Kids of all ages are streaming in through the front doors as parents shout goodbyes from cars. The loud chatter hushes as soon as they see you coming. You can see the shift in mood is bothering Toriel, but her history as royalty has taught her to hold her head high and keep smiling in a disarming way. Still, adults pointedly try not to stare and children openly gape and point and whisper to each other. Your cheeks burn as you know that some of those whispers are about you, the human kid among monsters.

The principal seems nice at least. Must be, this is the first school to allow monster children to enroll. As she explains the basic school rules to the new students and parents, you watch the fish in the tank on her desk. The fish looks back at you. It isn’t much of a conversation. Then you snap back to attention as you are dismissed to go find your classroom. MK bounces along beside you down the hall after a cheerful goodbye to their younger sister.

The fifth grade classroom is bright and cheerful, and the teacher welcomes you and MK in with a wide smile, introducing himself as Mr. Lopez and motioning to two seats at the side of the room. The other students welcome you with silent stares and more whispers. Ok, a few smiles too. You smile back nervously.

Even Mr. Lopez stares a little as MK deftly shrugs their bag off their shoulder and catches the strap with their foot, nimbly hanging it off the back of their chair. MK sees everyone looking and sheepishly says, “Sorry, we haven’t been given lockers yet. Is it ok to put my bag here?”

“Uh… yes. Sure, sure.” Mr. Lopez replies distractedly. He obviously hasn’t gotten over the novelty of someone with no arms yet.

You roll your eyes and plop down in your seat, getting out a notebook and pencil. You pointedly ignore MK as they rummage through their bag with a foot and then transfer the pencil to their mouth, hoping the other students will take the hint. They don’t.

“Wow, that’s amazing! What happened to your arms?” a kid a row over asks.

MK looks confused, “Yo, what arms? Oh. I’ve never had any. Runs in the family.” They smile.

You realize that MK is way better at this stuff than you and you sink a little in your chair, feeling guilty about hoping the other students forget about you if they focus on the monster. Then Mr. Lopez starts taking attendance and you hope dearly that when it comes to your name, nobody will notice the difference.

Of course, your hopes are in vain.

“… Frisk?” Called Mr. Lopez, a noticeable pause as he sees the lack of a last name.

You raise your hand.

A couple of other students look at you strangely. They noticed the absence. You had registered as a student with the rest of the monster children, many of them did not have last names so none of them thought it was weird that you did not include one. You couldn’t risk writing down your last name. It’s probably still in the public school system. They could find your records. Find your…

“Alright everyone! We are going to start the day off with a sheet of math problems! Feel free to work quietly with the person next to you.” Mr. Lopez cheers from the front of the room, disrupting your thoughts, all the students besides you groan in complaint as the sheets are handed out.

You take your paper, looking down at the problems. It’s been too long since you were last in school. You’ve missed a whole year. _I have no idea how to do this_ , you think, _I’ll ask Sans to help me after school_.

“Psst, hey, hey you.” The student in front of you twists around in their seat while the teacher isn’t looking, “Why don’t you have a last name?”

_Crap._ You freeze. Then force a shrug.

“You dumb or something? Answer me. Why don’t you have a last name?”

Your hands come up, * _I just don’t, ok? Leave it._

The student is not impressed. “What the hell was that? Did you just insult me?”

Your hands start to tremble with that old feeling of helplessness.

“Yo dude, that’s super mean!” MK jumps in, “Can’t you tell they told you they don’t have a last name and to leave them alone?”

“No, I don’t speak hand flapping,” the kid sneers, “Why can’t he just talk like a normal person?” they pause to look at you again, “or she. Are you a boy or a girl?”

This response and sudden new line of questioning throws MK off. The monster really has no idea why this human was making all these stupid assumptions about you. You felt a brief pang of jealousy for the world MK grew up in and your hands really begin to shake with anger as you turn to them, * _Most people don’t know sign language here, and they certainly rarely respect what someone wants to call themselves. It’s always ‘that girl’ or ‘that boy’, never a neither or in between with them. Everything based on assumptions based on people’s bodies and how they look. I hate it!_ You repeat the last three words several more times in an attempt to make your hands stop shaking and to keep the tears from coming.

The other student looks angrier. MK looks at you in shock, “Dude, that’s crazy!”

“What’s crazy?” the other student has now raised their voice above a whisper, “Jesus Christ! Just tell me and stop doing things I can’t understand, you freak!”

You can feel your face drop to an emotionless blank look as you curl into yourself. This again. You can never escape it, can you? _It will never stop. It will happen over and over again. You will never fit in, never be accepted as who you are, never be understood. Not like you are by the monsters. You thought it was so great when nobody batted an eye when you signed your order at Grillby’s and the flame monster didn’t even flicker in hesitation. You realized you wouldn’t have to force yourself to speak except when calling others on the phone. Conversations went better. You felt understood, normal amongst a land with no average body type or strict social expectations. But of course it couldn’t last. I’m doomed to misery forever with my own kind._

You barely notice when MK raises their own voice, but feel shame for being unable to defend yourself against even a dumb kid when you had gone head to head with the most powerful monsters in the Underground.

“Yo! Don’t say that about my friend! Frisk’s a really cool person, and super nice, and saved all of us monsters and opened the barrier so we could come back to the surface! They are super strong and super awesome, so don’t call them a freak you big meanie!”

Uh oh. That last part was said loudly into an otherwise silent room. You sink even lower into your chair.

“Ah-hem, MK, Frisk, Tyler, please join me out in the hall for a moment.” Mr. Lopez looked a little cross.

Now MK looked worried, squeaking out a quick “Sorry!” before ducking their head and following you and that other kid, Tyler, as you trail after the teacher.

Once the classroom door is closed behind you, Mr. Lopez turns to all of you with a stern but concerned look, “Now, what was that all about back there?”

Tyler speaks first, “That new kid insulted me or something and the monster wouldn’t tell me what they said and then yelled at me for no reason when I just asked Frisk a question!”

MK looks indignant, “Yo, that’s not what happened at all. Frisk never said anything mean to you, and you just asked really rude questions!”

“Ok, ok, calm down,” Mr. Lopez raises his hands, then turns to you and asks, “What did you say to Tyler?”

_Crap crap crap!_ “Uh…” You make a little squeak with your throat. You haven’t used it to form words in a very long time. You’re not sure you can and can’t quite remember how to move your mouth to make the words you want to say, so your hands start moving, * _I just wanted T-y-l-e-r to leave me alone. They were asking rude questions I didn’t want to answer and they made me angry and then I explained everything to MK but it just made T-y-l-e-r more angry._ You know where this is going as you see the panic rising on the teacher’s face, but you finish your sentences anyway.

“Oh dear. I-I’m afraid I don’t understand sign language.” Mr. Lopez rubs the bridge of his nose and mumbles a frustrated “Why did no one tell me?” before looking between the students again, obviously trying to figure out what to say. He looks immensely relieved when MK politely repeats everything you said. “So, Tyler, why did you think that Frisk was insulting you?”

Tyler looks at their shoes, “Those hand gestures looked mean,” they mumble.

“And what were the questions you asked Frisk?”

“I just wanted to know if they are a boy or a girl,” he says with a little more confidence, “that’s not a mean question.”

Mr. Lopez sighs and rubs his face again.

MK looks like they had an epiphany, “Oh! I think I get it now. You humans really are very different from monsters. You base who is what on what they are assigned as an infant. It’s very different for monsters, we believe everyone has the right to choose what they want to be called. My sister decided she wanted to be called a girl a few years ago, but I haven’t decided yet. Some people, like Frisk, choose to be neither of the options you gave in your question. They prefer they/them pronouns because that’s who they are. Your questions are considered rude in monster society because everyone just calls everyone else they/them unless told otherwise by that person.”

The teacher looks down at MK, obviously impressed, “Thank you for that explanation MK. Tyler, do you understand now why Frisk was hurt by your question?" 

Tyler makes a pinched face as if it was difficult to understand the concept, but eventually relents and says, “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what do you think you should say to Frisk?” Mr. Lopez prompts.

“Sorry, I guess.”

You know that is the best you are going to get out of them, so you sign your thanks and add some bit about maybe being friends. You know that’s never going to happen, but it makes the teacher smile as MK translates.

“Alright, lets all go back in now,” He says, “And Frisk, I’ll see if I can find a small white-board you can use if you need it, though MK is a commendable interpreter they will not be able to translate for you all the time.”

You nod. At least this teacher is nice and is trying to make it work, unlike your last one. Maybe this school year won’t be so bad after all.

* * *

 

 

The rest of the day sees no more incidents of that kind, and you start feeling a lot better. Mr. Lopez talks with the rest of the class about sign language and using the right pronouns and it seems like most of the students really listen. Lunch is not so bad either, a few more monster children from other classes all sit with you and MK, even a couple of more friendly human children join you at the table. You suspect that at least one of them is there on a dare, but if they aren’t being mean you can’t tell them to leave.

At recess, you watch the monster and human kids play mostly separately. You think about joining in, but the games seem so silly, so trivial. MK shouts at you from a game of Foursquare with their sister and a small group of other monsters. You hesitate, but decide to join. _Why not? Can’t be more boring than leaning against the wall._  

A few rounds in and a crowd of humans is forming around the square. MK and their sister are quite good at catching the ball between their chin and one foot, using their tails for balance. Half the crowd is looking at you now, probably wondering about the human who plays so easily with monsters, but you also see some impressed faces, you are winning after all. Bouncing and catching a ball is nothing compared to combat, but as you watch your friends enjoying themselves so much, you find yourself enjoying it too.

* * *

 

  

The school day ends much like it begins, but in reverse. Students stream out of the school to find their parents or take the bus or walk if they live close enough. Right outside the door you spot Toriel, standing just a little taller than most of the adult humans around. You wave excitedly and she waves back, waiting until you walk to her before sweeping you up into a warm hug.

“How did it go, Frisk? Better than you imagined, I hope?” She smiles.

* _It was good. I have a lot to catch up on though._ You smile back.

“Oh my, I hadn’t thought of that! I’m afraid I cannot be much help with your homework, my specialty is monster history and you aren’t learning that in school yet. Maybe you could try asking Dr. Alphys?”

You tilt your head in a noncommittal way, * _I was actually thinking of asking S-a-n-s, he knows lots of things and probably has more patience to teach me._

Toriel laughs, “Oh, my smart Frisk, it is true that Dr. Alphys would probably not make a very good teacher. She was a brilliant scientist, but is not the best communicator.”

You take her hand, and do not fail to notice the happy smile that graces her face every time you do that. Together, you wait for the rest of the monster children to come out and happily reunite with their parents before walking home as a group. You are tired, but the cheerful chatter of your neighbors telling their first day at school stories fills you with something that feels a lot like hope.

 


	3. Chapter 3

You knock on the door twice, as is custom. You can hear Papyrus shouting about something inside, and a few seconds later Sans opens the door.

“who’s there?” he asks.

* _D-o-r-i-s,_ you sign.

“Doris who?” his grin gets wider.

* _D-o-r-i-s locked, that’s why I knocked!_ You end with a flourish.

Sans bursts into laughter, “oh man, that’s a good one kiddo.” He lets you in and heads for the couch, “how was school?”

You wait until he is seated and facing you again, * _It was fine, but I need help with the math homework._

“who’re you going to ask for help?”

You give him a look.

“alright, bring your stuff over here and I’ll take a look at it.”

 

* * *

 

Sans really is helpful with your math homework, and the two of you work through it together for the next couple of hours. As you work on the final problems and start to wonder where Papyrus is, the skeleton in question bursts out of his room.

“OH MY GOD! I’M GOING TO BE LATE! SANS! YOUR STUPID DOG STOLE MY COOL HAT! WHERE DID IT TAKE IT?!”

“have you tried looking under the sink?”

“…Not yet. BUT! YOU REALLY NEED TO TRAIN THAT THING! IT KEEPS STEALING MY STUFF! IT’S SO ANNOYING!” he retrieves the hat from under the sink.

“ah, pap, it’s not that bad. Besides, the little guy only steals your stuff because it thinks you’re pawsome.” Sans grins knowingly, “it really digs your sense of fashion.”

Papyrus looks like he is about to explode, but notices you waving at him, “OH HELLO FRISK! DID YOU HAVE AN AWESOME DAY AT SCHOOL?”

With a smile and a nod, you completely distract Papyrus from being angry with his brother, * _What are you dressed up for? Going on a date?_

Now he looks flustered, “UH… NO! IT’S NOT A DATE. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM GOING TO SEE METTATON PERFORM AT HIS NEW THEATER TONIGHT. I thought it would be appropriate to wear my cool outfit. It is, right?”

Nodding in a reassuring fashion, you give him two thumbs up.

“THANK YOU, FRISK. WELL, I AM OFF! SEE YOU LATER! AND SANS, I WILL BE HOME LATE, SO WE CAN SKIP THE BEDTIME STORY TONIGHT.”

“sure thing, bro.”

The house feels oddly quiet without the boisterous monster. The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Then Sans turns to you with a serious look on his face.

“look kid, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, but I have to know. you’ve been the one messing with the timeline, right?”

You avert your gaze and look at your hands in your lap, then nod.

“oh man, so you… you were the kid who killed everyone. Maybe.” He clutches his left eye socket as if he has a headache.

_What?!_ Your eyes widen and you shake your head vigorously, * _No! I never killed anyone! I died! I died over and over again, so many monsters tried to kill me, and they did, but I could save so I could go back and try again._ A tear escapes down your face as you remember the pain, and your hands shake.

Sans’ eyes widen, “but then… what? but I keep seeing… and I swear…”

The utter confusion and worry shows on your face.

“oh man, they are just dreams then. the kid who looks like you, the deaths, so much dust, but that doesn’t explain d-… the man who warns me, or how I’ve been having these dreams before I ever met you. oh god, what’s wrong with me?” Sans puts his head in his hands.

Something stirs in your memory. You nudge Sans to get him to look at you, then sign * _Beware the man who speaks in hands?_

He turns to face you with a shocked look, “you know about him? you know about Gaster? but no one…”

* _Tell me about the dreams._

He sighs. “…ok. they… are always disjointed, but repeat. like a broken movie reel. I see Gaster, Wingding, my father. he tells me to beware of a human child with a striped shirt. he shows me things, other timelines, pasts, futures, loops. everyone is killed over and over again, Toriel, Undyne, Mettaton… Papyrus. it’s horrible. I swear the kid is you, I… I saw myself fight you, over and over.” He clutches his hoodie over his chest, “I saw me kill you, and you kill me.”

His left eye socket starts to glow with a faint blue light. It’s freaking you out a little, so you try to backtrack, * _G-a-s-t-e-r? You and P-a-p have a dad? What happened to them?_

“I… I don’t know. I’m the only one who remembers him. I tried to ask Pap about him once, but he just looked at me like I was crazy. but I know he existed. I have his old notes and an unfinished machine in a lab out back. the notes are all in wingding, but I can read it as if I knew it all my life. I can’t actually remember him though. my memories get… blurry, going back. I don’t remember a childhood, but me and Papyrus must have been children once. I just don’t know.” he shakes his head and sighs again, “my father’s notes are incomplete, I think he was working on a time machine, but I don’t know.”

* _Can I see? The machine?_

“I suppose.”

You follow Sans outside to a shed behind the house. He unlocks it with a key and as you step inside you are struck by how little there is. Just a few sheets of blue paper are scattered across a desk, and a machine sits covered in a sheet at the far end. Glancing at the papers, you cannot read the strange symbols, so your attention goes to the machine as Sans uncovers it. Nothing about it is familiar. You hum a little as you think.

* _Humans have shows about time travel, and in these shows there are often also things called parallel universes, or timelines._

Sans looks at you with interest.

* _I think maybe your father has somehow gotten mixed up in both time and space. They come to you in dreams because they are stuck, and they warn you about something that might have happened in another timeline. I did not kill any monsters, but maybe another me has._ Your heart fills with dread, thinking about how you could have killed Toriel, or anyone else.

“that makes a lot of sense, kid. thanks. but don’t look so down, you are the you that matters, and you didn’t kill anyone. you have no idea what a relief that is to me.” He laughs humorlessly,“but still, one thing bothers me. sometimes, I get this weird feeling like what I am doing has happened before, and my memories of the time before I met you feel more distant. that’s your doing isn’t it?” 

You nod. Then shrug. * _F-l-o-w-e-y could save and reset too._

Sans looks alarmed “who?”

* _F-l-o-w-e-y. Nobody remembers, but they tried to kill all of us. They don’t have that power anymore._

“oh” he still looks worried, “Frisk, be honest with me. are you going to reset again? I saw you… do something earlier today. all my memories of when we left the Underground up to now feel new, but… I worry it could all be taken away.”

* _I won’t reset. I promise. I like it here, and even if I wanted to, I don’t think I can up here._ The look of relief on his face fills you with emotion and you hug him.

He hugs back, you both stand there for a moment in relief. When you pull back from the hug, you notice the time on the wall.

* _You should come over for dinner. Mom will make pie._ You feel that Sans shouldn’t be alone for dinner, plus he loves your mom’s cooking. You think he likes more than just that about her, but you’ll never say it to his face.

“that does sound delicious, you sure Tori won’t mind me just showing up?”

You nod, knowing that your mom more than likes Sans’ terrible jokes. They make each other happy, and you like it when the people you care for are happy.

 

* * *

 

Two knocks on the door.

“Yes?” Toriel opens the door.

“you’re supposed to say ‘who’s there’.” Sans smiles up at her.

“Who’s there?” Toriel’s eyes crinkle in a smile.

“Justin.” His smile gets bigger.

“Justin who?” she is almost laughing already.

“Justin time for dinner.” The grin almost splits his face in two.

Toriel bursts into snorting laughter, and you giggle along.

“Oh, that’s a good one Sans.” She beckons you both inside, “Of course you are welcome to stay for dinner. Is Papyrus coming too?”

“nah, he’s at Mettaton’s show tonight. thought I’d pie-take of dinner with you instead of going to New Grillby’s.” he sits down at the small kitchen table.

The pun earns another giggle from Toriel as she returns to meal preparations, “Well, I hope my cooking is butter than what you would get at Grillby’s”

Sans grins.

You roll your eyes. You can tell this is not going to end any time soon.

“Tori, your cooking is eggs-celent. here, I can ketchup with my pals and donut have to pay.”

“Well, brie appreciate your company, Sans.”

Both of them giggle uncontrollably. This is wonderful and horrible, and you don’t know whether to grin or groan in annoyance. You decide that if you can’t make them stop, you might as well join in. Whatever makes your loving mom happy.

You wave your arms in the air to get their attention, then sign * _This is outrageous! L-e-t-t-u-c-e eat already!_

You watch Sans almost slip off his chair with laughter.

* * *

 

After dinner, you have a plan. While you and Sans are doing dishes, you ask Toriel to read a book instead of watching a movie. She is delighted, and as she picks one out and takes her usual seat on one side of the couch, you rush into action. With quick motions, you scrub off the last plate, dunk it in the rinse water, hand it to Sans to dry, take off your old apron, and try to not look like you are running to the living room. You plop down on the opposite side of the couch from Toriel and smile innocently at her when she gives you a questioning look.

Her confusion turns into a small smile when she sees Sans walk into the room and you motion him to join you on the couch as you wrap yourself in a blanket.

He suddenly looks nervous, “I should get home to Pap, that guy likes his bedtime stories.”

You give him a stern look, * _Your brother said they would be home late and not to worry about a bedtime story. You can stay longer. Please?_

You watch him cave as his excuse is shattered. He slowly walks up to the couch and awkwardly sits between you and Toriel. A smile tries to fight its way to your face, but you hold it in and scoot closer to him. Just a bit. Toriel gives you a knowing look over San’s head. You give her a knowing one back. She blushes a little and hides it behind her book.

Toriel starts to read, and you can feel the soft notes of her voice sooth and relax everyone in the room, even the magic flame in the fireplace slows to a lazy flicker. Sliding the tiniest bit closer to Sans, you can feel him relaxing into the cushions. You wait a bit, listening to the story, before you put the final phase of your plan into action. Both adults startle a little when you slip down to lie across both of their laps, wrapped up tight in your blanket. Toriel stops reading. You wrestle your hands out of the blanket.

* _I’m tired._ _Keep reading._

Toriel starts up again with a smile on her face. It takes a while for Sans to relax again, but he does. You grin. You can outlast them. You wait. Sure enough, a little while later you can feel Sans tipping over towards Toriel to lean on her shoulder. He’s probably falling asleep. Toriel shifts, and you peek to watch her put her arm around the shorter skeleton. He starts awake, but she smiles at him and pulls him back. He makes a face you think is probably blushing, but leans back in. Toriel puts the book down and runs her fingers through your hair.

You smile and close your eyes. Mission accomplished.


	4. Chapter 4

The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the quiet classroom. Everyone is finishing up the spelling test, you think you might get 100% as you complete the last word. Thinking about the last month brings a smile to your face. Sans and your mom get closer each day, he spends almost every evening at your house (often Papyrus comes too, but nobody minds). Toriel started taking classes at the nearest community college so she can get an official teaching degree. Your teacher cuts your reminiscing short.

“Alright everyone, please pass your papers forward, and don’t forget to have your name on them!” Mr. Lopez pauses for a moment as papers shuffle from hand to hand, “I also have a special guest here today who will tell you more about the upcoming sex-ed program we will be starting next week.”

Excited whispers and nervous laughter fill the room, but you are clenched in paralyzing fear. You knew this was coming. You’ve dreaded it for two years now. Panic rises in you like a wave as a woman with long brown hair and a bright pink shirt walks into the room and stands at the front to address the class.

“Hello everyone! My name is Elizabeth Sunny, but you can call me Miss Lizzy. I will be the instructor for the girls’ side and the co-ed part of sex-ed. We will split the class into boys and girls for the first three days, then come back together for the last two days…”

She goes on, but you have lost the ability to listen as your pulse pounds in your ears. It was all going so well, up until now. Eating mostly monster food allows you to avoid going to the bathroom at school. You wear your gym clothes to school on gym days to avoid the locker rooms. None of the people here knew you Before. You are pretty sure that the bullying has been way down because none of the other kids have any basis for taunting; you can be yourself without hearing your past in every cruel word. But now, now you will be forced to choose, forced to haul that wretched past back up into the light and give the mean kids a whole list of insults they couldn’t be sure of before. It’s not just the bullying either. The idea of puberty is terrifying in a way not even an evil flower with the power of six human souls can be. It’s visceral. Being you has been possible because with just about any clothing on you can look in the mirror and see yourself. You’re still you. But when your body changes, everyone will think they know what you are, the mirror will no longer show you, but an alien body with all the wrong things. Your eyes fill with restrained tears as you feel the helplessness and the bleakness rise up to drain the hope out of you.

“… and don’t forget to get those permission slips signed over the weekend. They are due on Monday, and I will see all of you then!” Miss Lizzy ends cheerfully, handing out the required permission slips.

When one lands on your desk, you glare at it. Mr. Lopez is announcing the homework assignment, but you are not listening. An idea is beginning to form. You really can’t skip out on this, no one in your family could teach you all you need to know, but maybe you could get the class to be more inclusive so you won’t be singled out. Picking up your white board, you scribble down a message as you push through the crowd to get to the teacher. Tugging on his sleeve as politely as possible, you get his attention and show him the board:

‘I need to talk to you after class.’

“Alright Frisk, I have another student to talk to before you, if you can stay a little longer?” Mr. Lopez asks.

You nod. Turning away from him, you sit in your seat and pull out your phone to text Sans:

‘I need to talk to the teacher after school today.’

‘ok, what classroom?’

You quickly type out your answer as you see MK approaching.

“Yo, Frisk, who are you texting?”

* _S-a-n-s. They’re picking me up today, but I have to talk with the teacher._

“Is it about the whole sex-ed thing? Whatever that is,” MK makes a weird face, “I’ll just get my parents to sign me out, since I’m a monster and stuff. Oh, you’re worried because of the whole splitting the class into boys and girls thing huh?”

You nod, * _I need to talk to the teacher about it._

“Maybe you can get them to not split up the class,” MK looks hopeful.

You don’t feel hopeful about this at all, but you nod and smile a little anyway. MK looks pleased and gathers their bag to go home. Just as they pass out of sight through the doorway, Sans comes strolling in.

“hey kiddo, how was your day?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you’re not sure how to answer that question.

“not great, huh? So what’s this thing you need to talk to the- “

“Mom! That’s the kid I was telling you about!” a loud whisper from a girl interrupts your conversation. She and her mother stand a little ways off, obviously also waiting to speak with Mr. Lopez.

“Ugh, I’m so disappointed they let monsters into the school,” the woman spoke to her child, but was obviously aiming the comment towards you and Sans.

Sans takes a step towards them, holding out a hand, “hi ‘So Disappointed’, my name is Sans. Sans the skeleton.” His usual grin is more of a smirk.

You stifle a giggle behind your hand.

The woman gives Sans a disdainful look and refuses to shake his hand, “My name is Linda,” she says with a huff, “and I can’t believe creatures like you could end up with a human child. It’s not right, not natural.” Then she turns to you, “It’s Frisk, right? Well, Frisk, my daughter, Lily, told me you won’t tell anyone if you are a boy or a girl, so which is it? You can’t be both.”

You see Sans tense up, his left eye shimmers blue, and you step up to tug on his sleeve to get his attention, * _I got this._ You have been rehearsing some witty lines for just such an occasion. Linda looks impatient as you take a second to write down a few words on your white board:

‘I’m a kid.’

Now she looks annoyed, “Yes, but what kind of kid?”

You make a confused face.

She seems to lose her cool, “Do you have boy parts or girl parts?”

At your continued silence Lily pipes in, “What is in your pants?”

Trying not to grin, you scribble down your punch line, hiding it from everyone until the big reveal:

‘DETERMINATION’

“Ughhh!” Linda throws up her hands. Sans grins like it’s the best joke in the world.

“oh man, lady, I think you’ve just been Frisked.”

You hold up your hand for a high-five that he gleefully returns. Linda looks like she is about to explode as she drags a grumpy looking Lily out the door.

“Frisk?”

You look over and see Mr. Lopez has finished with the previous student and is now waiting for you. Sans follows at a leisurely pace as you walk over.

Mr. Lopez looks surprised to see a skeleton monster barely taller than you, but composes himself quickly, “Hello, I don’t think we’ve met before. My name is Mr. Lopez.”

“I’m Sans. it’s good to meet you.” He holds out his hand and your teacher shakes it with no discernable hesitation. Sans relaxes a little.

“Nice to meet you as well. You are Frisk’s… guardian?” Mr. Lopez asks.

“nah, I’m just picking them up today. their mom, Toriel, is busy this afternoon.”

Lopez nods and changes the topic, “So what did you want to discuss with me, Frisk?”

You scribble on your white board:

‘The sex-ed program doesn’t work for me.’

“Hmm,” Mr. Lopez looks thoughtful, “is it because the class will be split into boys and girls?”

Nodding, you erase the board and write more. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that Sans now looks both incredibly uncomfortable and baffled.

‘I can’t choose one or the other. It makes me uncomfortable.’

“Frisk, I know that sex-ed makes everyone nervous, but it is important. I suggest you go to the class that will be most helpful to you.”

You erase the first sentence on your board and present the rest to him again.

“I see. Perhaps you would prefer to talk about this stuff with the school nurse?”

A few days ago you visited the school nurse for a grazed knee. She wasn’t very sympathetic to your gender neutral status. You shake your head and think.

‘I will find another doctor.’

“If that’s what you want.” Mr. Lopez looks mildly concerned, with some underlying relief.

Sans promptly shatters that relief. You watched him grow more agitated over the course of the conversation, but he was looking pretty pissed now. “I don’t see why you have to separate the students for this thing at all, don’t they all have to learn all of it anyway? seems discriminatory to me, making kids choose between two options.”

Mr. Lopez looks nervous, “I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules and I can’t change them, even if I wanted to. Sorry. If you want things to change, you’ll have to speak with the school administrator, possibly even the heads of the school district. I don’t know for sure, but you’ll need the support of the whole school to make changes.”

Sans still looks frustrated, but is no longer glaring at your teacher.

You tug on his sleeve, * _You could join the P-T-A._

“what’s that?”

* _Parent teacher association. I think they can sign petitions and stuff to make the school make changes._

Sans laughs and ruffles your hair, “I’m proud you think so highly of me kid, perhaps I will.” He then turns to your teacher, “thanks for your time Mr. Lopez, maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Perhaps I will.” Lopez responds almost automatically, still looking a little worried and confused.

You and Sans leave the building, walking back towards Toriel’s house. You have a lot to think about. _How am I going to find a human doctor? Will they let me see one without giving them my last name? Do I want a male or a female doctor? Can I choose? How am I going to find one that will listen to me and not dismiss my problems like my old one did?_ Then it hits you. * _S-a-n-s, can I use your computer? It’s important._

“sure thing, kiddo. whatever you need. I’ll text Tori and tell her we’re headed to my place.”

 

* * *

 

This is a problem. A huge, enormous, horrible problem. You are sitting in front of Sans’ computer, vision starting to blur with tears as you read the requirements for making an appointment with a doctor. There is no way you can do this without them asking questions and finding out the truth. _They are going to find out who you are and are going to take you away from your new family._ The fear swallows you for a while, and you sob silently, hoping Sans or Papyrus don’t walk in on you like this. Too many questions.

Finally, you manage to calm yourself down a bit. _Think rationally. You have the internet, dummy!_ Clicking on the search bar, you look up a new topic. If you can’t get the information about puberty from your family or your school or a doctor, the internet is the next best place.

An hour later and you are back to sniffling. While you found out way more than you needed to know about puberty, which is freaking you out enough, you also discovered an alternative. Puberty blockers. Hormone blockers sometimes prescribed to kids who want to be the opposite gender than the one they were assigned at birth. You don’t see any mention of gender neutral kids like you, and the information is usually about kids at least a couple years younger than you, but the real problem is that one word: prescription. You need a doctor to get a prescription. You bang your head down on the keyboard. _You knew this happy ending couldn’t last forever. You knew this was always coming. You know what you have to do._

Grabbing up your bag, you force yourself down the stairs, almost tripping when the front door opens and Toriel steps in.

“Hello everyone! I apologize for being a little late, the bus took longer than expected.” Your mom was all smiles and a warm hug smelling of soft fur and homemade pie.

_I want one more night. Just one more night of this happiness. Then I’ll do it. Tomorrow._

 

* * *

 

 

Asgore no longer lives in a huge, empty castle. As king of the monsters, he still has quite the estate, made more for show than for the personal taste of the occupant. Guards 01 and 02 salute you as they let you in the gate, you can hear their hushed flirting after they close it behind you. In front of you is a wide path through a magnificent garden of carefully maintained topiaries with echo flowers basking in their shade. Last time you were here you stopped to listen to them, holding back laughter at the chatter they picked up from unknowing visitors. Today you do not feel like laughing. Today you walk straight up to the big double doors at the end of the stone walkway; a march very much reminiscent of your first one to meet the King. Like that first time, you straighten your back and put on a determined face. Thoughts of the puberty horrors you witnessed yesterday on the computer push you forward. You are about to do the one thing you were avoiding ever since you freed the monsters and came back to the human world.

Papyrus surprises you when he opens the door after the first knock. Then you remember he is now head of the royal guard and works here.

“HELLO FRISK! WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE TODAY?” He goes on without waiting for you to answer, “I BET YOU ARE HERE TO SPEAK TO KING ASGORE AND THE FLOWER. LUCKY FOR YOU, KING ASGORE IS NOT BUSY RIGHT NOW, SO COME ON IN! NYEHEHEH!”

You nod absentmindedly to his one-sided conversation as he leads you through the grand hall. The masses of yellow flowers growing on either side of the path make you a little nervous. Yellow flowers always make you a little nervous, now. Papyrus leaves you by the throne to go tell Asgore of your arrival. You can hear him down a hallway to the side, but cannot yet pick out words.

King Asgore emerges from the back, “Howdy, child, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” before you can get your hands up to respond, he continues, “Ah, it can wait a few minutes. I have a wonderful pot of tea brewing and I want you to share it with me! Come, come.”

You follow him out of the huge formal space into a modest living area; a hallway with doors leading to a kitchen and, you assume, a bedroom. The King leads you into the cozy kitchen, where the morning sunlight shines in the many windows. Through those windows, a beautiful garden is tucked neatly against the back of the building. Asgore’s true passion is gardening. Your eyes are drawn back into the room when the potted flower on a windowsill starts swearing at you.

“Here to torment me even more, filthy human?” Flowey sneers, “Digging me up and forcing me to come here wasn’t enough? You had to come taunt me too?”

“Hush, my child, you know Frisk did the best for you.” Asgore spoke to the soulless flower while pouring fragrant tea into two large teacups.

Flowey. You couldn’t just leave him behind in the Underground, all alone. Though he could no longer be Asriel, you still wished for him to not be lonely. When you went back to get him, you decided to ask Asgore to care for him. Telling the King who Flowey used to be nearly broke his heart, but you were able to convince him to not tell Toriel. You know it would shatter her. So Flowey lives here, and only you, Asgore, and Papyrus know about it.

Flowey quiets down to a silent glower. He and Asgore must have come to an understanding while you were away living your life with Toriel and the others. You sit down at the table and pull the steaming mug of tea close enough to take in a long breath of its warm and comforting smell. Asgore is seated across from you, he takes a sip of tea before speaking, “So, young one, what is it that brings you here today?”

You let go of the teacup and reply, forcing yourself to not hesitate on the words, * _I want to become the human-monster ambassador._

He pauses for a moment, obviously not expecting that, “I… see. I am very glad you wish to help with the ongoing integration of monsters into this place, but what, pray tell, has made you change your mind since your refusal?”

You don’t want to answer, and your hesitation results in a kind, but mildly worried look from the huge monster seated before you. * _I… I just want to_. You respond lamely.

That worried look does not leave Asgore’s face, but he nods. “If you like, I can introduce you as ambassador for monster-human relations at a television interview I have coming up. How does that sound?”

You nod.

“It is in a neighboring city, and will be a long car ride in the middle of next week, you will have to miss a day of school.”

You nod again.

Asgore lets out a sigh, “If you get permission from Toriel to miss school to come do this, then you can come.”

You nod enthusiastically, and hop off your chair to give the King a quick hug.

“You’re such an idiot,” Flowey chimes in from the window, “this is so stupid! Pointless!” he shouts after you as you back out of the room, signing to Asgore.

* _I will be here on Wednesday to go with you, thank you King!_

You think you hear Flowey grumbling something about a death wish as you leave the room and head out the way you came. Adrenaline is pumping in your system, terror and hope mixing in a way that makes you run all the way home.


	5. Chapter 5

You never realized how chaotic it was behind the scenes of a talk show, and you still can’t quite grasp all that is going on as your face is powdered ‘for the camera’ as the makeup person says. At least Asgore is there with you, offering a kind smile in a sort of apology for the discomfort of having a stranger touch you, but you knew this would happen. It is all part of what you have to do to ensure your future. So you straighten your spine and remember that happy save you managed weeks ago before you are ushered out of the back beside the king of monsters.

“Welcome back to the show!” the show’s host beams at the camera as you and Asgore are sitting down, “As promised, our special guests tonight are the King of Monsters, Asgore Dreemurr, and by last minute addition the new human-monster ambassador, Frisk!”

The ASL interpreter you were given sits next to you, and you try not to fidget as you wait to be addressed.

“It’s such a pleasure to have you here on the show, your majesty. That is what I should call you, right?” the host’s hand is dwarfed in Asgore’s as they shake.

“That is my title, yes, but just Asgore is fine, thank you” Asgore smiles disarmingly, “It is a pleasure to be here”.

The host’s desk is too far away from your chair to shake his hand, which is fine with you. You give him a little wave instead.

“Ah yes, and young ambassador Frisk. Tell me Frisk, how did it come about that a human kid is living with monsters?”

Right to the point then. At least you have an answer thought up for this. * _I fell into the mountain, and the monsters took me in. They are my family now._ The translator speaks your words, but you think they aren’t quite getting the tone right. You elaborate a little, * _I love them very much._

“A fascinating story, I would love to hear more about it! But the reason I invited you two to my show tonight is to discuss the new integration of monsters into our society, the schools specifically. Mr. Dreemurr, if my sources are correct, you brokered the deal to allow some monster children to attend a normal school, how did you do it?”

You find your attention drifting away from the conversation. Scanning the crowd, you are relieved to not recognize any faces. So they don’t know yet. Good. Maybe you will be able to enjoy some more time with Toriel and everyone else before things get complicated. The seemingly sudden mention of your name wrenches your attention back.

“… Frisk, how is it attending a school with monster children?”

* _It’s great!_ You make sure to smile, _* At first the other kids were kind of scared of us, but monsters are super nice so everything is good!_

His confusion at your wording is obvious, and your smile becomes more genuine. You didn’t like how he was wording it as if going to school with monsters was hard because of the monsters, and making it clear that you are not one of them. You often feel like you have more in common with them than with your own kind and you wanted to make that clear without actually saying it.

“… Right… well that sounds like it is going well then,” the host stumbles a little with his words. “And since we have a little more time, I’m sure everyone is dying to know, where are your parents?”

There it is. Asgore is looking immensely nervous and your smile returns to fake, but you knew this was coming and you are prepared.

* _My mom, T-o-r-i-e-l, is busy taking classes today. She wants to become a teacher!_

You can see the mild frustration on the host’s face. You don’t care.

“Ms. Toriel is your monster caregiver, yes? I meant your human parents, where are your human parents?”

You shrug,

“Are they dead?”

Another shrug. You aren’t going to lie, but you aren’t going to tell the truth either.

“But…” he looks up at someone behind a camera giving some sort of signal, “…I’m afraid that’s all we have time for, folks! Thank you two so much for coming here and speaking to me.”

“It was a pleasure” Asgore shakes the host’s hand again, and you all sit awkwardly for a few moments while the host turns back to the camera and does the ending shtick for the show. Then the super bright lights turn off, the studio audience starts to shuffle out, and the host comes out from behind his desk to have a word before you leave. He shakes Asgore’s hand again and thanks him for coming, again. Then he leans down to you.

“I know you didn’t want to say anything about your parents, but it’s ok, you can tell me, I won’t get mad, I’m here to help, yeah?” He says it in a soft voice you know is meant to be disarming, and in a way where you know he thinks you may have been stolen with the way he casts glances at Asgore.

_Screw you_ , you think. Then you reach up to Asgore’s sleeve and tug on it, looking at him as you sign * _I want to go home now._ You make sure to sign ‘home’ strongly, and even raise your arms to be picked up. Asgore looks surprised at this, but you are glad he smiles and obliges by hoisting you up into one arm. You put your arms into his mane of fur and look back at the host with just the hint of a glare.

The interpreter had translated faithfully, and the host looked surprised, but he smiled and waved you off with another farewell and a nervous laugh.

Thank goodness that is over.

You are exhausted, but you can’t fall asleep in the car on the way home. Leaning your head against the window, you worry. How many more days of happiness do you have before they find you? Did you do the right thing? Or will this plan of yours backfire completely? The lack of belief from the talk show host increases your doubt, but you do your best to push it aside when Toriel happily greets you at the door with a warm hug. You push away the dread and do your best to enjoy what you have, because who knows how long it will last.

 

* * *

 

Just a couple of days, apparently. It is evening and Toriel is just serving dessert when she is startled by the sound of police sirens outside. You feel suddenly nauseous as an officer knocks on the door. Toriel glances at you in confusion, and excuses herself to go answer. Silent apologies to her stream through your head as she opens the door.

“Hello, how may I-”

“Where is the child?” the officer’s gruff voice interrupts.

You scramble to Toriel’s side, not wanting her to get in any more trouble on your behalf. Another officer takes hold of your arm and pulls you out the door, you were not expecting this and you resist, digging in your feet and reaching back towards Toriel, but it is too late.

“Frisk!” Toriel looks alarmed and a little angry, “What is the meaning of this, you cannot come here and just grab my child!”

The officers crowd the doorway, blocking her from your view as you are passed to a strange woman who takes your hands and obviously tries to get your attention.

“Hey there, hey there, it’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, everything is going to be ok. Your name is Frisk, right?” She speaks softly.

You look at her and her straight blond hair reminds you of a half-naked cartoon character with a sword and bulging manly muscles, but instead of the humor it should give you just start to cry, because you saw that cartoon while sitting with Alphys and Undyne and now you are not sure if you will ever see them again.

“Shhhh, shhhh, it’s ok. Everything is going to be ok.” The woman tries her best to comfort you, but you know she has it all wrong.

With a little effort, you pull your hands from her grasp, * _Please don’t arrest them!_ Your hands are shaking, but you manage, * _Please! It is not their fault! I was not stolen! I want to be here, please!_

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m with social services, my name is Mary, I’m just here to make sure you are alright. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you and I’m sure the nice officers and the judge will be able to figure everything out, but there are some people here who very much want to see you.”

_Not yet,_ you think, _I’m not ready to do this yet._ But you look up through your tears and there they are, approaching with another officer. You look back at the house and you see Toriel with tears wetting her fur. She has stopped trying to get to you and now stares with surprise at the two humans approaching. She looks at you, and you avert your eyes in shame. You should have told her, but you didn’t want to lose her, you still don’t, but you have to take the risk. Still, you hate yourself for causing your wonderful new mother pain.

The adults run the last few steps to you, and the woman drops to her knees and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Frisk! Oh my precious child! I thought I had lost you!” she wails.

You struggle away from her thick perfume and though you can’t get free you manage to reach an arm out towards Toriel, grasping for what you know to be out of reach.

“God, Frisk,” the man speaks, “your mother and I have been sick with worry, we thought you died! Only to find out a day ago that our _____ had been stolen by these horrible creatures!”

At the first true misgendering in a long time, your mind goes blank. You stop struggling, but your hands curl into fists and you stare hard at the ground. In your peripheral vision you can see the social worker kneeling by you again, and when she speaks you can hear true concern in her voice.

“Is everything ok, Frisk? These are your parents, right?”

You think of days at the park playing with the dog monsters, of movie marathons with Alphys and Undyne, of tea with Asgore, of evenings curled on the couch between a skeleton and a goat. You think of silent dinners, of outfits chosen for you, of yelling and public restrooms.

You shake your head and through the tears you reach again for the blurry shape of Toriel.

“Ok, I think we need to figure out what is going on here.” The social worker says.

“W-what?!” the woman holding you sounds frantic, “This is my ____! ___ needs to come home with me!”

You are grateful when the officer helps the social worker pull the woman off you. She starts sobbing, but you don’t feel as bad about it as you probably should. The guilt crawls on your back just a little.

“I think Frisk has been through a lot lately, and ___ needs some time to adjust.” The social worker tries to calm them, but you almost start crying again when she starts misgendering you too. As soon as she turns back to you, your hands are in motion.

* _I am not a…. I do not have a gender! I am not a boy or a girl and I hate it when people call me that!_

“I see…” the social worker says, “are you saying that you do not want to go with your parents?”

* _I do not._ You look the social worker in the eyes as you sign, making sure she knows you are serious.

“Ok,” she stands again, “What is going to happen here is I am going to temporarily take this child into state custody until this matter is resolved in court.”

Cries of anger come from the adults who are trying to claim you, but you shut them out as best you can as you are ushered to a tan car and asked to sit in the back and handed a little bag with assorted candies. Before the social worker can turn to talk with the police officers, you grab her sleeve and tell her you need your backpack. She nods and goes to speak with Toriel, leaving an officer guarding the car. The candy in your hand looks unappealing, you set it aside.

What feels like a long time later, the car door is opened and your backpack is handed to you. You clutch it to yourself and are thankful you have kept it stocked with important things. Riffling past the homework, you pull out a framed photo. Happy monster faces and your own happy face stare back at you from behind the glass. The social worker, Mary, has got in the car and is talking some more, but you aren’t really listening. Then she leaves the car again and you can see multiple people outside making phone calls. Other monsters have started to show up to see what the commotion is about and you see some police trying to calm down an obviously upset Undyne. Sans and Papyrus are trying to get to Toriel, who is surrounded by police and talking to the social worker. It’s a mess out there, and you wish you knew what was going on or at least what was going to happen.

 

Hours. The chaos outside the car had been going on for hours. More monsters have shown up, along with a couple of news vans, and the police taped off the area. The social worker is now on the phone and things seem to be wrapping up. Maybe. You are tired though, it is past your bedtime and crying really tires you out. Clutching the happy photo to yourself, you curl around your backpack in the back seat to wait for whatever comes next.

“Frisk?”

Mary’s voice starts you awake, you blink up at her.

“Frisk, I am going to have to take you somewhere else for a while. This whole situation is unprecedented, and to be honest it’s kind of a mess, but I have talked with everybody and the decision right now is to bring you into care until the situation can be properly assessed. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Ok, I found an LGBT group home you can stay in, run by a very nice couple, but I thought it best to wait until tomorrow to introduce them to you. So tonight you may stay in a safe social services building, ok? Is that ok with you?”

It isn’t, really. You want to go home, but you know you really don’t have any choice in the matter, so you nod again.

Mary notices the picture you are holding, “Is that an important picture?”

You feel like a bobblehead as you hand it over.

She looks at it for several seconds, really taking it in, then hands it back. “I want to talk with you about all this tomorrow, ok? But for now you need some sleep.”

 

* * *

 

You must have fallen asleep in the car, for all you have are blurry memories of being woken and ushered into a strange building and a room with a bed. The next thing you know is you are blinking awake to clean white sheets in a room with brightly painted walls. Looking around, you see shelves of tidy books and a few baskets of toys. They don’t interest you at all. Your backpack lies on the floor by the bed.

A knock on the door startles you.

“Good morning Frisk, I’m coming in now alright?” Mary opens the door slowly and enters with one of those too-patient smiles.

You freshly recall the previous evening and have to fight to hold back the tears.

“Oh, child, everything will be ok. I promise.” Mary sits on the end of the bed, “We will sort this whole mess out and you will be able to go home.”

* _When?_ You ask.

Mary looks sympathetic, “It may be a little while, possibly a few weeks. The court dates haven’t been set yet. In the meantime I am here to help you and make sure you are well looked after. How do you feel about meeting your temporary guardians at the group home today? Remember when I told you about that last night?”

You remember. * _Ok, but I want to see my mom. T-o-r-i-e-l._

“I can arrange for that to happen. I know your parents are very eager to see you again as well, how do you feel about that?”

Looking at the floor, you shrug. You do miss them occasionally, but the way they greeted you yesterday brought back all the less than happy memories you have of living with them. You don’t want to go back, but you don’t want them to get in trouble either. It’s not their fault they didn’t have the child they wanted.

“Ok. How about some breakfast first then?” she obviously is trying to lighten the mood, “I have cereal here in the office, is that alright?”

Cereal is certainly better than dog salad or Temmie Flakes, so you nod.

 

After breakfast, the social worker has you answer a bunch of questions about your home life with Toriel. She seems a little confused at times when you tell of so many adults in your life and spending many weekends with Alphys and Undyne, but you assure her that you are very happy with the monsters and that you always feel safe with them. When she starts asking questions about your birth parents, you start feeling anxious. Your feelings are complicated and confusing, and you stumble through a lot of sentences. No, they have never physically hurt you, yes they fed you and gave you clothes and made sure you went to school, but they didn’t really accept you for you. They treated you as the child they always wanted, not the child that you are.

 

Then later, you are in her car again, driving to the group home. You are nervous, but not as terrified as you were before she said it was specifically for children who are gender non-conforming. She tells you it is run by a very nice gay couple who are ‘excited to meet you!’ even though you know this was a last minute thing and they are probably feeling more pity than excitement, but whatever. You made the choice to go through this to have a chance at being yourself, so you must go through with it. No going back now, but you can fight for your chosen family, and you vow to do so.

The home is a large house in a wealthy neighborhood. The yard is perfectly kept, complete with a smiling garden gnome. With your backpack on your shoulder, you walk up the front steps onto a white porch and Mary knocks on the white door. A dog barks, and you are surprised by the sound, but it makes you smile a little. The smile fades when the door is answered by two men in nearly matching sweater vests.

“Welcome, welcome!” one says, shaking Mary’s hand, “and this must be little Frisk.” He smiles down at you, “come on in!”

The other takes up the conversation as you all move into the tastefully fashionable living room, “This is my husband, Rob, and my name is Jacob.”

Once you are all seated on the comfortable sofa and chairs, Jacob continues.

“Frisk, it is a pleasure to meet you, even under these tough circumstances. Mary has told me all about what is going on, and I hope you will be reunited with your family soon. Until then, you can feel safe living here with my husband and I and our three other foster kids. They are all at school right now, but will be home later this afternoon.”

Rob picks up the dialogue, “Yes, and we were told that you are fine with dogs, right?”

You nod.

“Splendid! Our dog, Missy, is an absolute sweetheart. I’m sure she’ll love you. She’s in the other room right now, is it ok if I let her come in to say hi?”

Nodding again, you can feel yourself starting to smile as he lets in a massive yellow lab. She’s an older dog, so doesn’t quite bound over to you, but she certainly lets you know what she thinks of you as she lays her big head in your lap and looks up at you with big brown eyes. You pet her.

“So Frisk,” Jacob continues, “do you have any questions for us?”

* _Do you know A-S-L?_

Rob immediately looks worried now, and so does Jacob, but he does respond, “I did take sign language in school, but it’s been a long time and I’m a little rusty. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” He smiles.

Rob looks like he’s had an idea, “Hey, how about I get you a pad of paper and a pen, I’m sure we have at least one around here somewhere!” He hops up and steps out into the other room.

Jacob watches his husband briefly, then looks back to you, “Would you like a tour of the house while he gets that?”

You nod, and with a farewell to Mary who has to leave, you follow the man deeper into his perfect, boring house.

It’s not home, but you think it just may do for the time being.


	6. Chapter 6

You are introduced to the other residents of the home over dinner. Sam and FD are both 13, Janelle is 15. None of them seem to know how to interact with someone your age. They seem friendly enough, but after the obligatory greetings they pretty much ignore you. This is fine. You’re not really here to make friends. Stirring some peas around your plate, you feel a little guilty for the thought. In a lot of ways, these kids have had it harder than you. They don’t have loving homes to return to.

When you are finished, you take your plate into the kitchen to wash it. As you rinse off the food scraps, Jacob rises and calls out to you.

“Hey, Frisk, no need to wash your dishes tonight. It’s Sam’s turn. We all take turns doing dinner dishes here.”

Placing the dish in the sink, you head back into the dining room.

“That’s right, we should probably go over the chores list and reshuffle it a bit.” Rob says as he gets up and returns to the table with a board covered in sticky notes.

“I’m gonna do the dishes,” Sam states and goes into the kitchen.

“Don’t you want to have a say in the chores?” Janelle asks.

“Nah, I’m good as long as it’s fair.” He replies.

You look at the board as Rob writes your name on a sticky note and puts it up at the top with the other names, removing an older sticky with what you assume is the name of the previous resident. The days of the week are listed down the left side.

“Alright, Frisk, what do you think of the chores that are already on here?”

Dishes, garbage/recycling, dusting, vacuum, dog walking/feeding, cooking, and cleaning the bathroom. You point to the cooking and shake your head. There’s no way you could cook a meal for 6 people on your own.

“Oh, yeah, you’re a bit young for that huh?” Janelle looks at the board, “I kind of like to cook, so how about I can take your cooking day if you promise to help me out?”

That certainly sounds reasonable, you nod.

“We can’t expect a 10 year old to clean the bathroom.” States Jacob, “I’ll go ahead and take that job when it’s your turn.”

“What about walking the dog?” FD chimes in.

You nod and write as quick as you can on your pad of paper,

‘I can do that! I like dogs.’

“Yeah, but… is it safe?” FD looks to Jacob.

You give two thumbs up. This neighborhood is almost crazy safe.

“They’ll have Missy with them, it should be safe enough when it’s not dark out.” Jacob responds.

Everything settled, you head back upstairs to the room they gave you. Your backpack lies at the foot of the bed, but you don’t unpack it. You don’t want to think that you might be here a while. But you do pull out the framed photo of you and the monsters and place it on the nightstand. Just as you are setting it in place, Janelle knocks on the doorframe. You didn’t close the door, and she’s standing in the doorway waiting for you to say she can come in; you motion her to do so.

“Hey there. I… I saw you on the news.” She sits on the end of your bed, “You lived with the monsters, right? How was that?”

She looks genuinely interested, so you hand her the photo. She looks at it for a long moment, then gently touches the glass before handing it back to you. The smile on her face is a little sad.

“Everyone looks so happy. I think you’re really lucky to, you know,” she looks down at her hands, “have a family that loves you like that. I’m… I’m kind of jealous, actually.” She laughs, but it is not joyous, “I know I have less than a year left before I can claim independence and move out, but sometimes… I wish….” Her face is hidden behind her hair as she trails off.

Awkwardly, you pat her on the shoulder with one hand as you grab your paper with the other.

‘It’s ok to still want a family. When you are out, if you want, you could come live with the monsters in River Town. You could build a family.’

It took a while to write, but the smile on Janelle’s face when she finally reads it is worth it.

“Frisk, you are the nicest 10 year old I have ever met. I really hope you get back to your family. If you ever need anything, you can ask me, ok?”

You nod and smile.

She nods back and leaves the room.

Looking at the photo again, your eyes start to fill with tears. For the first time in your life, you feel homesick. It hurts.

* * *

 

School is still something you have to attend. The social workers thought it would be best for you if you could continue going to the same school. Your feelings on this are mixed. It is easier to go to the same school, and you like hanging out with MK, but it is also hard to see some of your monster friends but know that you have to go to someone else’s house after school. Jacob drives you, and you do your best to ignore the stares from the other kids as you are dropped off and head to the office with Jacob and Mary. They have to inform the principal of the situation.

“Frisk! Frisk! Yo, what happened? I was super worried!” MK comes running up to you in the hall.

You can feel unwanted tears threatening to spill, so you hug your friend to hide them.

“Whoa! Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Pulling back, you answer, * _I was taken away, but I’m going to come home again, I promise._

MK reinstates the hug by leaning into you and putting their head on your shoulder, “That’s horrible! But I’m glad you are ok and you’re still coming to school here, it’s really boring without you.”

The bell rings, and you wipe your face with your sleeve as you follow MK to the classroom. You keep telling yourself that this is all going to be worth it.

 

* * *

 

The sun is setting as you walk Missy back to the group home. She is an old dog, and you underestimated how long it would take you to walk her around several blocks. You hope Jacob and Rob won’t be angry that you are back a little late. Missy is panting a little, and you pet her in apology for taking her too far. She slows down the closer you get to the house and it is dark by the time you get to the back door, which was left unlocked for you.

Opening it, you are startled to hear a familiar voice. Hanging up the leash and toeing off your shoes, you head into the living room with Missy waddling behind. Mary is there, sitting in one of the chairs and talking with Jacob. She sees you and waves you over.

“Hello Frisk, come here and join us for a minute, I have some good news.”

You sit in the other chair. Face carefully neutral.

“Don’t worry Frisk, it really is good news,” says Jacob.

“I was able to arrange a supervised visit with Ms. Toriel for tomorrow,” Mary smiles.

You can feel your face splitting into a big smile as warmth fills you up. Wrapping your arms around your shoulders, you grin silently at Mary as she figures out the transportation and timing details with Jacob. You are getting your big chance to show everyone that you should be with Toriel and the other monsters. You need to finish that project!

Clapping your hands, you get Mary and Jacob’s attention, * _I need to finish something!_ Then you jump up out of the chair and practically skip up to the room you are staying in. You have an hour until bedtime and you are going to make it count.

 

* * *

 

It’s a sunny day at the park. You can hear birds chirping and children yelling exuberantly as they chase each other around the playground, but you can’t even think about the playground right now. Feet tapping an excited rhythm on the floor of the car, you clutch your bag with its gift close to your chest and strain your eyes looking for white fur. Jacob pulls the van into a parking spot and Mary steps out first.

“Come on out, but wait here a moment Frisk.” She says.

You scramble out of the car, eyes still frantically scanning the park. Where would they meet? Somewhere out in the open, but still a little private. The park shelters are either occupied by family gatherings or empty. Not there. The area around the playground is full of parents, but none of them are yours. Did she come? The sudden thought brings a cold shiver to your skin. No. No, of course she came. She’s just… in some other area of the park.

Mary finishes talking with Jacob and returns to you, “Everything alright there, Frisk? You look a little pale.”

* _Where’s my mom?_ You sign.

“Oh, don’t worry! Ms. Toriel is meeting us by the pond. Let’s go see if she is here yet.”

Mary smiles, but you don’t need any more reassurances. Of course they would meet by the pond, it’s a lesser-known area of the park and often much quieter than the parking lot and playground. You have very fond memories of looking for tadpoles there during the summer.

Taking hold of Mary’s sleeve, so she knows you aren’t taking off without her, you pull her along at a brisk pace towards the path to the pond.

“Whoa, hold up there Frisk! Not so fast!”

You slow down a little and let go of her. It is really hard to keep your feet moving so slowly. You just want to run. Mary calls your name again as you unconsciously speed up and you again force yourself to slow down, heart beating strongly in your ears.

Finally, you reach the last bend in the path, and even though Mary calls your name again you cannot stop. There is the edge of the pond, your feet hit the gravel loudly. Then there she is, on the bench, already turned to look at you as she heard you coming. You break into a sprint as soon as her red eyes meet yours.

“Frisk!” Toriel exclaims with joy as you barrel into her for a hug, “Oh, my child I have missed you so much! How are you doing?”

In her voice you can hear tears, and your own are starting to wet her fur but you cannot answer her inquiry yet. Not yet. Holding her tighter, you bury your face in her shoulder and imagine this is where you’ve been all along.

She exchanges quick pleasantries with Mary, but you are not listening. She smells like pies and warm fur and fire magic and _home_.

“Oh my dear Frisk, is something wrong?” Toriel asks, caressing your hair.

Pulling away only enough to free your hands and look at her, you answer * _I missed you, mom._

“I missed you so much, Frisk. We’ve all been so worried! Have you been treated well?” Toriel still looks worried.

Now that you get a better look, she looks really tired, like she hasn’t been sleeping well. You feel guilty for making her worry. * _I’m fine. I’m in a place with nice people, but I miss home. How are P-a-p and everyone else?_ You remember how upset they looked the night you were taken.

Toriel wipes her eyes with a paw and smiles, “You always care so much for others. They are fine, very worried about you though, Papyrus gave me a whole stack of letters to give to you today. He was very upset when he couldn’t mail them or give them to you personally. Everyone else wrote letters too, here, they’re in my bag.” She turns slightly to pull a large stack of envelopes out of her bag. They are neatly tied with string and you clutch them to your chest as she hands them over. Now it’s your turn to wipe your face of tears.

* _I have something too._ You pull your backpack off and exchange the stack of letters for a gift carefully wrapped in newspaper.

Toriel takes it and gingerly pries up the excessive tape with her claws. She gasps when she sees it.

It took you a long time to create, you had the idea several days ago and had started it in your free time after school, but you were still up far past your bedtime last night finishing it. The cover is two sheets of colored craft paper all stapled together with sheets in the middle, like a book. The title reads ‘My Family’ and Toriel carefully runs her paw across the letters before turning the page. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Mary come a little closer to also get a look. Good, you want her to see this.

There are many pages, and each one is of a fond memory you have with all the monsters in your life. The first page says ‘star gazing’ and has an illustration of you, Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, and Dr. Alphys sitting under a dark sky full of stars. You are not the best artist, but by the way Toriel smiles as she looks at it you know she can tell what it is. The following pages are similar. ‘Moving In’, ‘Sunrise’, ‘At the Beach’, ‘Dog Park’, ‘Birthday Party’, ‘Rainy Day’.

Toriel laughs when she turns to ‘Grocery Store’. You think you caught Papyrus’ likeness quite well the moment he found the pasta section.

A few more pages, and the book is on the last page. This is the one that kept you up so long last night. The top of the page simply says ‘Future’ and the picture is of every monster you know. The page is full, monsters crowding up around the word and in every corner, and in the middle is you in your favorite striped sweater.

Toriel raises a paw to her mouth, unshed tears fill her eyes, “This is wonderful, Frisk, thank you so much. I will show it to everyone.” She hesitates on her next words, “But… what about…” She closes her eyes and looks away for a second, then back at you.

“Frisk, what about your parents?”


	7. Chapter 7

You fidget with your hands in your lap, looking down at your shoes. It feels like this moment should be silent, but you can hear the laughter of children in the distance and the gentle hum of insects over the pond. Toriel sounds so hurt. You hurt her, with your lies. You silently vow to never lie to her again. Then you look up at her expectant face.

* _I’m sorry._ Tears well up and spill over. * _I’m really, really sorry. I don’t want you to be mad at me._

“Oh Frisk, I am not mad at you,” Toriel gathers you into another hug, “I am just confused and concerned. Please don’t cry.”

Sniffling and wiping your face, you try to lighten the mood. You hate seeing your new mom almost cry. * _If you are confused and concerned,_ you sign, _are you also cornered, coordinated, cooperative, complacent, and cowed?_

Toriel looks at you for a second, “Was… that alliteration?”

You nod, and she bows her head as giggles start. She’s laughing as she continues,

“I suppose I am a bit coercive, coarse, cocky, coddling, and cochleate.”

Toriel smiles at the face you make over that last word. You have no idea what it means. She explains and you smile, but it fades as you remember the topic you must go back to discussing.

* _My parents…. They don’t really want me. I mean, they act like they want me, but they don’t really. They want a normal kid. I mean, one who isn’t gender neutral. They just don’t understand me and they never will and it’s not their fault they had me instead of the kid they wanted, but I can’t be what they want me to be and I wasn’t happy there with them. That’s why I… I… ran away. To the mountain._

“Oh Frisk, my child, I am so sorry you feel this way. Are you sure your parents won’t understand? I am sure they love you very much, and if you talk to them-“

* _I’ve TRIED!_ You motion large to emphasize your words, * _They won’t call me “they” no matter how many times I ask, and they never let me pick out my own clothes. I still love them, sometimes, but I can’t live with them anymore. When I left I was ready to… My parents are better off without me. I really like living with you and the others. I love my new family and I feel like I belong._

Toriel glances at Mary over her shoulder. The woman is carefully looking like she is not listening, but is definitely listening and watching.

“I believe you, Frisk. I cannot understand why any parent would not accept and love their own child no matter what, and I do not believe that any family could ever be better off without you because you are an amazing person. But if you feel that you truly cannot live with your birth parents and wish to live with me instead, I will support you in that decision. However, I am… disappointed that you would keep this all from me for so long.”

Regret sits heavy in your stomach as you look at Toriel. She loves you so much and you betrayed her trust, you can’t let that happen again. * _I’m really sorry for not telling you the truth. I was scared. I’m not scared anymore, and I won’t ever lie to you again, I promise!_

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” Toriel delicately wipes at her eyes before hugging you again.

Mary shifts on the gravel path, “I’m terribly sorry, but our time is just about up. Say goodbye, then we must be on our way.”

The sobs come unexpectedly as you cling to Toriel’s fur. You don’t want to go back to the group home, you want to go home with your mom and make jokes over dinner with Sans and play a board game with Papyrus and cuddle up on the couch to fall asleep to the happy sounds of your family. But now you feel Toriel’s soft face press against the top of your head one more time before she gently pulls away and encourages you to do the same. She clearly tries her best to smile through her own tears as they leave wet trails down her cheeks.

“I will see you again soon, Frisk. Be good.”

Nodding, you manage to locate your backpack through a blur of tears. Mary gently guides you back to the parking lot with a hand on your shoulder. By the time you reach the car, you have blinked enough to see again.

“How did it go?” Jacob asks.

You give him a thumbs-up while getting into the back seat. The letters are heavy in your bag.

 

* * *

 

The letters are all so wonderful. It takes you an hour to read all of them, as you have to stop frequently to wipe your eyes and wait for your vision to clear. A few are spotted with tears. As you are finishing the last one, there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“Make a noise if I can come in!” Janelle’s voice is muffled.

You thump a book against the edge of the bed, and Janelle comes in with two mugs.

“Hey, I heard you had a visit today. I hear those are rough. I made hot chocolate, want some?” She offers you one of the mugs.

You nod and take the steaming beverage. It is warm and rich. You take a sip. Perfect temperature.

Janelle sits next to you on the carpet and looks over at the pile of letters in front of you, “Are those from your monster friends?”

Nodding, you sip more hot chocolate. It’s almost as good as Toriel’s.

Janelle sips from her own mug. You can tell that she is curious, but doesn’t want to say anything that might seem rude or nosey. You think about how she probably hasn’t ever gotten letters from her family, and after a moment of silent debate with yourself you slide the messy stack over to her.

She looks surprised, “Are you sure it’s ok if I read these? They’re your letters.”

Smiling and nodding, your try to look like you are focusing on your hot chocolate and not watching her as she reads the letters. Neither of you have dry faces by the time she is done.

 

* * *

 

It’s several more days before Mary comes again to take you to see your biological parents. Of course they wanted to meet at the mall. They thought all children loved the mall. _Only teens like the mall_ you think as you follow Mary through the brightly lit and crowded hall. You remember that teen monsters prefer the forest, and as you walk past a store blaring loud music and smelling horrifically strongly of cheap perfume you think you will prefer the woods too. Before you’ve even made it to the food court, the agreed upon meeting place for this visitation, you feel anxious and tired. Today is going to be a long day.

You see them a few seconds before they spot you. They are standing by one of the big pillars in the huge room, scanning the crowd, and as they see you they break into huge smiles. In that moment you miss them. In that moment you remember them reading books to you. In that moment you see loving parents. Guilt crawls up your spine as you accept their hug. The moment is over quickly.

“Frisk! It is so good to see you!” your mother sobs into your shoulder before pulling away to look at you. Her brow creases, “What are you wearing?”

You look down at yourself; it’s just your favorite sweater, a short light pink skirt over blue shorts and your hiking boots. The manly bandana sits on your head. You wore it today to remind yourself to be strong, but the look your parents are giving you is making that very hard. They look horrified.

“Is this what those monsters are making you wear.” It is not really a question, your father rarely asks questions.

“Good thing we are at the mall,” your mother chimes in, “we’ll get you some new clothes, ones more suited for a proper ____.”

There it is. Despite expecting it, you flinch. A glance at Mary is met with a concerned look. This gives you some strength. _Look,_ you think, _see how they treat me and understand how I cannot go back._ You maintain eye contact with Mary - a pleading look, you hope – as your mother takes your hand and leads you towards the nearest clothing store.

Walking past the adult clothing sections and down the isle towards the children’s clothing, you can hear your parents whispering above you. You can’t hear what they are saying, but they seem to come to a conclusion by the time you stop. In one direction are rows of pinks and bright pastels, in the other are blues and blacks and intense dark colors. An overwhelming feeling of dread creeps over your shoulder and into your chest.

“Alright, Frisk, you can pick out something you like,” your father says, “but it needs to be from over there.” He points.

_They must be letting me choose in order to look kinder in front of Mary_ , you think, but it is just an illusion of choice. After a couple seconds of you not moving of your own volition, your mother puts her hand firmly on your back and pushes you forwards. Your heart beats loud in your ears, and you can feel your hands starting to shake as you blindly go to sift through clothing, aware of the stares from other patrons. A few of these items might interest you, you think, but right now you can’t really focus on anything and the only feeling you get from looking at the clothes is despair. A glance at Mary shows a concerned face, but your mother pulls your attention away from her.

“How about this?” She asks.

It’s not terrible. Not something you would pick on your own. You shrug.

“We’ll try it on, then.”

Oh god. Oh no. no no no no no no. Breathing starts to feel difficult, like you’ve been running too hard, but your limbs feel terribly awake and fidgety and your skin feels cold and clammy and your fingers start to tingle. Your parents are completely oblivious.

“How about this?” your father asks.

“Ooh, I like that one!” your mother exclaims, adding it to the slowly growing pile in her arms.

Staring at your shoes, you try to get your breathing under control. You do not like feeling out of control. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Slower. In… Out. Then you are interrupted.

“I think that’s probably enough, Frisk, lets go try these on and see which ones you like best.” She takes your hand to lead you towards the changing rooms, but you can’t move.

Blood rushes through your body as your heart seems to slam itself into your ribcage and you gasp for breath. Slow breathing forgotten, you are shaking. Your legs give out and you drop suddenly to a crouched position, knees at your chin, one arm up with your mother still holding your hand. You can hardly feel it as the tingling sensation spreads to your wrists. Distantly, you hear their voices, but no words get through the pounding in your ears and the gasping of your breath. Tears begin escaping your eyes.

You have no idea how long it is before Mary is crouched in front of you trying to instruct you to breathe slower. It feels like hours, like seconds. You realize your mother has let go of your hand and both your hands are clutched around your knees. Mary does not try to touch you.

“… with me, ok?” Mary is speaking, “In….. out…”

You struggle to follow instructions, everything feels shaky and tight.

“There you go, keep going,” her voice is gentle, “In… out…”

It is several long moments before the tightness starts to ease, you still feel shaky, but you can breathe now and notice things around you.

Your parents are standing over you with slightly frustrated looks on their faces. A few other shoppers slow down to stare as they pass, and a single store employee stands nervously off to the side.

“I think it’s time to go now.” Mary stands, addressing your parents.

“Yes, of course.” Your mother agrees.

“I’ll go buy a couple of these,” your father takes a few of the clothing items from your mother’s arms and walks off.

You refuse your mother’s hand as you work to get up. She lets you. _Small favors_ , you think. Taking a step, you realize your feet have slightly fallen asleep from your crouched position, you wince as the sharp tingling sets in. Your mother reaches towards you again, but you school your features into neutral and look away from her, back straight. She puts her hand on your shoulder anyway.

“I don’t know why you put up so much of a fuss about shopping.” She sighs.

Mary looks almost angry. The expression pours a little bit of relief into you, maybe she won’t make you do another visit like this again.

The walk back to the mall parking lot is quiet. Well, as quiet as a walk through a mall of noisy people can be. Your parents hug you as they say their goodbyes and hand you the small bag of clothes. You just feel tired. You want to go home. Mary doesn’t try to start a conversation in the car on the way back to the foster home, and for that you are thankful.

Once back in your temporary room, you close the door, shove the bag of clothes under the bed, and lay down boneless on top of the covers. You cry.


	8. Chapter 8

You are methodically shoveling cereal into your mouth, reminiscing on butterscotch-cinnamon pie, when the phone rings. Jacob gets up from breakfast to answer it and takes it into another room so you can’t hear the conversation.

“I wonder if it’s another case,” says Sam.

“Don’t be dumb, there aren’t any more rooms here,” FD replies.

Sam gives them a dirty look.

“I bet it’s about Frisk’s situation,” Janelle chimes in, “it’s been a couple of weeks, so the court date must be coming up, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” Sam concedes around a bite of toast.

Jacob walks back into the room, “Exciting news, Frisk! Mary is going to swing by in about an hour to come pick you up. Your custody hearing is today and the judge wants to speak with you beforehand to get your opinion. If all goes well, you’ll be home by the end of the week!”

Thoughts and emotions swirl in your head. You’re not sure whether to feel happy or afraid or both. The feelings are too much to process right now, so you focus on something less likely to make you start crying. Pointing to your backpack packed for school, you tilt your head in a question.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll call the school so they know you can’t make it today.” Jacob clears his empty breakfast dishes from the table, “The rest of you, finish up and get ready to go. I’ll drop you off a bit early so I can be back before the social worker shows up.”

The other kids groan a little, but finish up breakfast quickly and start getting ready. You’ve lost your appetite and stir your cereal for a moment before dumping it. _Will the judge really listen to you and what you want? Will you be able to convince them that you need to go with Toriel? Or will they side with your biological parents and send you back to misery?_ The thoughts feel like lead chains on your spine as you haul your backpack back upstairs to the bedroom. The other kids yell encouraging thoughts up the stairs behind you as they walk out the front door, but you can’t really feel the encouragement right now.

Back up in the room you’ve been occupying for the past couple of weeks you look around, seeing the sloppily made bed, the pile of clothes on the floor next to the dresser (you still refuse to act like you are really living here), old homework shoved under the bed with the bag of clothes bought at the mall, the framed photo on the bedside table next to a big stack of letters. _The letters!_ Hope rears its head and you dump the contents of your backpack onto the floor before scooping up the pile of letters from all your monster friends and family and carefully put them in the bag so they won’t get too crinkled. The photograph joins them. You hesitate a moment, but decide to shove the bag of new clothes in the outside pocket. A plan is starting to take shape and you know you have to present your case just right in order to be heard. An hour, Jacob said you have an hour. Time to get out the paper and pencils.

 

* * *

 

By the time the secretary calls your name, you have counted every beige tile on the floor of the beige courtroom hall. The chair you are sitting in is extremely beige, and uncomfortable, but the sensation barely registers from under the roiling mass of nerves that is your stomach. Mary offered you a snack earlier, but you couldn’t even imagine eating. Now, she gets up from her chair next to yours and escorts you into another room that smells like old paperwork and faint perfume. The judge behind the desk is not what you were expecting and you pause in the doorway.

“Don’t be afraid, Frisk, I don’t bite.” The older woman beckons you in, a matronly smile on her dark brown face. “Come, sit.”

Your fingers move nervously along the edges of the photo frame held in your hands as you follow the judge’s motions to one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Someone you’ve never seen before occupies the other chair. They turn to you and sign hello. Ah. They must be your interpreter. You set your photo in your lap and turn to answer, * _I can hear just fine._

“Sorry about that,” the interpreter says, “I was only told I would be interpreting for you today, is that ok? My name’s Val.”

You nod in response.

The judge reaches out for a handshake, “As you’ve hopefully already been told, my name is Mrs. Simmons and I am the judge assigned to your case. You probably have a lot of questions, and hopefully I can answer most of them for you, but I’ll have some questions for you first. We also don’t have very much time, I don’t usually talk to the children in custody cases, but this is an unusual case and your input has specifically been requested.” She shuffles the papers in front of her, clearly looking for the first question.

Before she can ask it, you slide your photo on to her desk. She pauses and looks at it.

“What’s this?”

* _My family._ You sign, and the interpreter repeats out loud.

An impatient look crosses Mrs. Simmons’ face, “That’s wonderful, but first let’s confirm some of this information…”

She continues to list your birthday, your name, your biological parents’ names, and you nod along to it as you quietly unzip your backpack and pull out the bundle of letters. Just as you are placing it on the judge’s desk, she asks you a question that makes you jerk in your chair.

“Now, it says here that you have some sort of gender identity issue? Can you explain that a bit more?”

You look at your shaking hands in your lap. Issue. Issue. As if you are the problem here. As if this is something wrong with you. Maybe you are wrong, all wrong for a human, all wrong for this world. You wish you had been born a monster. You think of their world, and your few years with them. You think of your last save point.

“ – isk? Frisk? Is everything alright?” Mrs. Simmons’ voice.

Wiping your eyes, you look back up at her to see a deeply sympathetic and somewhat apologetic expression.

“Look, I can see that this question bothers you, and that you have a lot of things you want to show me, but I really do need all these questions answered. It may not seem like it to you, but they are all very important to this case. Do you understand?”

Sniffling a bit, you nod. With shaking hands, you answer all of her questions to the best of your ability, for once very thankful that the interpreter can’t share the horrible sinking fear rising up to claw at your lungs.

 

* * *

 

Finally, the questions are over, and the judge puts down her paper and pen and picks up the framed photograph you set on her desk. As she studies it with a serious expression, you pull the last few items out of your bag and pile them on the desk. The hastily written letter goes next to the pile of letters from your monster family and friends. The bag of clothing your biological parents bought you gets dumped on the other side of the desk. _Presentation matters_ , you remind yourself, and more neatly stack the letters as Mrs. Simmons finishes with the photo and looks again at the array in front of her.

“I don’t have time to read all these letters.” She says.

You push your recently written papers towards her. * _At least read this. Please!_

“All right.”

The wait is agonizing. The judge’s face isn’t giving you any clues as to how she is feeling about your written plea. It was hard to write, you remember, and there are places where the words are blurred with tears and where the edges of the paper are rumpled from sweaty hands, but you hope the judge can see the sincerity of your words describing the life you had before you met your new family and how much better everything is with Toriel and the others. You can tell when the judge reads where you reference the letters you got from all your friends, and where you tell about the unpleasant shopping trip, by her eyes briefly leaving the papers to glance at the items on her desk. Silence fills the room like a held breath, punctuated by the heartbeat of the ticking clock and your own blood pounding in your ears.

The papers go down, and Mrs. Simmons looks up, “Thank you Frisk. I have to attend the hearing now, but I will keep all of this in mind when I make my decision. You are free to go back with Mary now. Please take all your things with you.”

 

* * *

 

Everything feels numb and sharply tingly as you rejoin Mary in the hall. With her hand lightly on your shoulder, she quietly escorts you out of the building into the chill overcast afternoon. It isn’t until you have both gotten into her car that your mind clears enough to ask, * _Where are we going?_

“I thought we could go to the park while we wait. It will be a few hours until a decision is made, and I think you could use the distraction.” Mary looks back at you, “is that all right?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you figure it couldn’t be any worse than some coffee shop or the stuffy hall of the courtroom building. Leaning your head against the window, you try to focus on that point of icy cold against your scalp. Uneasiness churns in your stomach. Today is the day that a group of people you have never met and a judge you only talked to for a few short minutes will decide your future. It’s not fair. You had already made your choice of family, and these people with almost no understanding of your circumstances get to decide what they think is best for you, with barely any consideration for your thoughts and feelings. Now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure Toriel was the one to push to have you heard by the judge.

Toriel.

You miss her. You miss her so much. Tears well up in your eyes and win the battle against your lids as they slip down your cheeks in distractedly ticklish trails. Scrubbing them away, you work to control yourself as the park comes in to view.

There aren’t many children at the park, and as you close the car door you remember that it is a school day. Will you ever see MK again? You follow Mary to a bench beside the playground, the fear and nerves and hope roil inside your guts, forming an amorphous creature that claws its way up the inside of your ribcage to push up against your throat. Mary offers you a water bottle, but you shake your head in refusal, afraid that if you open your mouth the thing will spill out onto the cold ground and devour you whole.

A man walks by with a stroller stuffed with a small child bundled in thick blankets and sleeping soundly. Two toddlers shriek in excitement, waddling around the playground watched by hawk-like parents. Everyone oblivious to your silent pain. The chill air seeps into your bones, and you shiver.

“Why don’t you go enjoy the playground for a bit, distract yourself.” Mary gives you a knowing look. Perhaps she does see the bleak terror in your heart. She might even think she understands.

You stand and wander over to the swings. Ugh, it rained recently and the seats each have a little pool of water, so that’s out. The slide is in a similar state. It’s far too cold to use the monkey bars, and you don’t really have the strength to bother anyway. One of the toddlers runs smack into you from behind, and you turn with a start. They had been chasing each other, and the one that bumped into you grabs your legs and tries to hide behind you, squealing with joy at outsmarting their friend. _Why not,_ you think, _might as well try._ So you bring up your hands in a mock-scary manner and smile as you manage to make a fake growling sound. Both children laugh in delight and run screaming from you as fast as their short, bundled-up legs could carry them. You wiggle your fingers menacingly and follow, pretending to run while never quite catching up. A glance to the side shows the worried faces of the hawk-parents, but they begin to relax as they can see you clearly mean no harm. Nevertheless, after a few minutes of this, they call their children over and carry the reluctant toddlers back out of the park.

Distraction gone, the nerves come back.

You try again to distract yourself, finding a stick and dragging it through a mud puddle by the side of the path. But the stick makes you think of another stick you once had. You drop it in the mud. Wandering over to the big trees, you search under them for anything interesting, finding nothing but acorns, wet brown leaves, and a few slugs. Corralling the slugs onto a leaf, you grab a handful of acorns in the other hand and head back to Mary. You drop the leaf of slugs in her lap when she looks up from her phone to greet you.

The slight recoil she has upon seeing the slugs is not as satisfying as you had hoped it would be. You remove the slugs and put them under the bench with a shrug as an apology. Sitting on the cold metal, you start picking apart the acorns layer by layer. Each layer feels like a piece of your happiness as it is chipped and peeled away by humanity.

“Would you like to go somewhere else?”

_Home._ You think. _I want to go home._ You shrug.

“It’s a bit colder than I was expecting. How about we try the library?”

_I miss the Librarby._ Another shrug, but you get up and grab your backpack. Might as well be miserable in a warm place.

 

* * *

 

By the time you arrive at the library and are welcomed into its murmuring warmth, you are ready to collapse. Why is the hearing taking so long? Why can’t you be there to fight for your family? Why this helpless, long, torturous wait? The walk down to the children’s section feels like a walk to the gallows. Mary seems oblivious as she sits in a nearby armchair, face turned back to her phone.

Knowing that you couldn’t focus on a book now even if you tried, you slump into the beanbag chair in the corner, hide your face in your backpack, and cry as silently as possible. Pain cramps your stomach, but you can’t tell if it is hunger or fear. Eventually, the tears stop. You feel empty. Numb. Tired. So very tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of fighting. You are just about ready to give up and just allow whatever happens to happen. Thinking about your biological parents, you think about the forest again, the long trail up the mountain, the pit. _Could I do it all again?_

Mary’s phone rings.

She ushers you to follow as she answers it and shoots apologetic looks towards the librarian on her way out the doors. Somehow, you haul yourself up after her although you swear your heart has stopped beating. Is this The Call? It probably is.

You struggle to breathe, and suddenly your heart is beating all too fast up in your throat. Stopping just outside the library, you watch Mary step several feet away down the sidewalk and don’t follow. You don’t know if you really want to hear the answer. There is hope and there is terror and you are not sure which one you should be feeling right now because this is your chance at happiness, but it is also your chance to have everything ruined, and you do not know if you are strong enough to try again if it is the latter. Mary turns away from you, still talking on the phone. This feels like it is taking forever, is that a good sign, or a bad sign? Oh no. It’s probably a bad sign. They’re probably arranging for your biological parents to come pick you up and have all your stuff from Toriel’s house moved to theirs. They’re probably drafting restraining orders against the monsters, explaining to Mary that she has to tell you that you can never see any of them ever again. Change schools. You probably won’t even be allowed to go see a Mettaton show. Breathing becomes more difficult. Tears build and spill over and you can’t stop yourself from heaving in small sobs as Mary finally turns and walks towards you.

She looks concerned.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no.

You can’t bear it and hide your face in your hands. An audible sob escapes.

Suddenly, Mary’s arms are around you and you do not want it but then she is speaking and she says –

“It’s ok, Frisk! It’s ok! The judge said you can go home, she granted custody to Ms. Toriel. Don’t cry, dear, isn’t that good news?”

And suddenly the weight in your chest is gone and you are crying for an entirely different reason.


	9. Epilogue

Everyone piles out of the surprisingly sturdy old school bus and on to the hard-packed sandy soil. Who knows where Mettaton bought the rusty thing, but it certainly drove better than any school bus you’ve ever been on. You suspect Dr. Alphys replaced some parts. The details don’t interest you, what matters is that Toriel was able to invite everyone along to this celebratory star-gazing dinner picnic. You are bundled up with a brand new knitted hat and gloves, and many of the people coming off the bus after you are dressed similarly. It’s still winter, which seems like a crazy time to be going stargazing outside the city, but you wanted the celebration of being returned to your chosen family to be something meaningful to all of you.

“WHO HAS THE PICNIC BLANKETS?” Papyrus shouts over the happy chatter.

“Got ‘em!” Undyne roars back, hefting said blankets above her head, “Lets get this picnic started!”

Beside you, Toriel laughs quietly at some joke Sans has made, while he grins up at her. Everyone is here. The dogs are chatting with Alphys as they unload more supplies from the bus. MK and their sister have started a game of tag, and their parents watch carefully to make sure no one gets hurt falling over. Asgore, with seemingly infinite patience, is helping Papyrus and Undyne put down blankets and folding chairs. The chill evening air is full of the happy sounds of your family. Even Janelle looks like she is starting to relax and chat more. She was surprised when you called a few days ago to ask if she wanted to join you and the monsters in this celebration, had been hesitant to accept, but you wanted her to know that you appreciated her support at the foster home. You see her chatting with Mettaton now, as he poses dramatically – no doubt telling some harrowing adventure tale of stardom.

“Frisk, dear, come help us set up.” Toriel calls you from her chosen spot.

* _Coming!_ You sign.

Sans is busy setting up his telescope, so you help Toriel with the blanket. The delicious smells of dinner waft up from the picnic basket and your stomach grumbles, you lift up the edge of the basket, just to get a quick whiff.

“Frisk,” Toriel chastises, “Not yet, Asgore said he had something to announce before we eat.”

You clutch your stomach and make a dramatic face.

Sans laughs, “don’t worry kiddo, Asgore knows what’s at steak, he won’t take much thyme. getting you back has been kind of a big dill, we all want to relish this moment, so just let him taco ‘bout it and we can all feed our faces.” His grin widens as he speaks, and it takes you a few seconds to figure out what he’s done and why Toriel is quietly snickering behind you, but when you do get it you give him the nastiest grump-face you can. Sans just grins wider.

Asgore clears his throat over the chatter and everyone quiets down.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight to celebrate the return of Frisk. It has been a long road, and there were times when we were not sure that we would get them back, but throughout everything this child has never given up. They saved us from the Underground when I could not, they helped us integrate into this new world, and they remain a shining beacon of hope to all monster kind. Ambassador Frisk, I believe I speak for everyone here when I say; from the bottom of my soul, thank you.” Speech complete, King Asgore bows to you and sits back down to the sound of enthusiastic applause.

Toriel envelopes you in a warm hug, then lets go to finally reach for the picnic basket.

“DON’T FORGET THE SPAGHETTI! NYEHEHE!”Papyrus plops down on the blanket with his own picnic basket packed with containers of his favorite dish. “WHO WANTS SOME FIRST?”

“I think Frisk should get the first plate, we are here for them after all.” Janelle gives you a sly smile. You regret warning her about Papyrus’s cooking, but accept your fate. You’ll just have to follow it down with some of Toriel’s savory pie.

 

When the meal is finished and you are comfortably full, you scoot up next to Toriel, feeling the air getting colder. She scoops you up in her arms and onto her lap as you gaze together at the vast array of stars twinkling above your heads. Sans fiddles a bit more with his telescope, but you motion him over and he joins you on the blanket. Toriel pulls him in close. “This is perfect.” She says. Silently, you agree. You know that there will be hardships in the future. Your job as ambassador is far from over. But for now, you are here. You are home.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete, expect a chapter a day until it is all posted. Also, I am using the Undertale Work Skin, but I have no idea how to get the right fonts to show up, please help.


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